A Glimpse Into The Soul
by Chased-By-Bears
Summary: An inside look, you might say, into the turmoil of emotions and impressions of the Avatar Characters. Part 3: Mai
1. Part 1: Azula

The first part of what I'd like to call my very own character study, in which I delve deep into the psychological hysteria and cruel conduct that we know as Azula.

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It was all so simple, so easily resolved. Her tie to her biological brother snapped as easily as one of the god-forsaken shells her idiot uncle continued to collect as soon she saw the fool who was meant to be her family.

Everything about him spoke of failure. The Fire Nation colors may have suited him perfectly, but underneath his pale, royal skin, Azula could swear there was a scrawny lizard just waiting to crawl away like the runt he was.

An odd glint in his eyes seemed to deny the loyalty and admiration that his country demanded. 'It was all for his honor,' she said, mockingly repeating his words. What honor? He would never be a true son of the Fire Nation. He would never raise it up to the wondrous heights and glory it deserved (as she intended to).

And the scar that marred his face and destroyed all outward hints of his supposed royalty? 'It is an outside aberration that suits his inward weakness,' she thought as a sneer graced her sharp features.

It is hideous and revolting and the sight of it still disgusts her. Yet, the deformed eye in the midst of the gruesome sight seemed to hold none of the cruelty she'd thought such pain could inspire.

No, Zuzu was soft. And she could do far better.

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Yes, I know it's terribly short, but that's why you click the next button. J

P.S. Reviews are adored!


	2. Part 2: Katara

Part 2, concerning most things Katara. It takes place shortly after she challenges Master Pakku to a fight.

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She ground her teeth in frustration. How dare they?! She had flown halfway around the world to find at least one master to teach her something. Anything. And here, in her own sister tribe, she was being outright refused, after all she had done.

She had brought them the Avatar, for goodness' sakes; their last hope, their final shot at survival. Sure, she may've picked up a few tricks here and there, but she was still nowhere close to mastery.

She hated to admit it, really hated it, but she needed their help. Never before had this been so, no, Katara, had always prided herself on self-sufficiency. It was the only way to keep going after her father had left. She had to be strong, to prove to her father that they could be all right without him, that their family would survive.

But now she needed the help of that snooty, old man who had never seen a day of hardship in his life. It made her grin when she thought of how isolated she too, might have been. Instead, she had doubtless seen more of the world than the entire Northern Water Tribe.

Her anger returned when she remembered how far she had come. Just for this. She had wanted desperately to learn to waterbend and every day, she could feel the water's pull, beckoning her to transform herself in ways even she didn't quite understand. She was so close to her dream and it was being yanked away even as she had finally grabbed hold.

She took a deep breath. In and out, in and out. She took in all the anger she could muster and released all distractions. For months, it had been all about Aang, or her brother, or some other desperate soul in need. And she had complied, helping them, helping everyone she could. That was just who she was.

But now, she was fighting for herself. It wasn't pride; she deserved it. She deserved this one chance to make something of herself, to prove her worth to herself and to the world. She had to know she could make a difference. She had to know that she, too, could save the world.

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I'm afraid this one is rather short as well. Hopefully the next couple will be longer. :)

Again, review, review, and review pretty please.


	3. Part 3: Mai

**A/N: I updated! Even I'm surprised this time around. :)**

Part 3

Mai

"He's betrayed the Fire Nation and now we have to bring little Zuzu home."

Her tone was light, but Azula's eyes were cruel. I stayed mute, opting instead to examine my nails again for any imperfections. I could still feel her eyes on me, though, watching and waiting, glinting in the afternoon light.

As if I believe her. Azula always lies. Besides, one of the monthly reports Father gets said otherwise. Apparently, the Fire Lord despises his own son enough to use redemption as bait for the final execution. They escaped: him and his uncle. I hope they're alright. That uncle should be keeping him in line enough to stay hidden. I remember when his son was around. Lu Ten could get away with hell, or at least with dumping a pot of tea on some uppity noble's head. With a son like that...

He raised one kid right. He can raise another. But he's grown now. Seventeen. And I don't even know what he looks like anymore.

The reports I filch off of Father's desk hardly mention him at all except to point out his most recent stops and the relative financial failure the whole expedition has been. Someone always manages to mention the overabundance of rare tea purchases...

Father knows I look at his reports. He doesn't seem to care, though. I mean, why would he? He has nothing to fear from me and he knows it. There are far too many places where I could trip or fall or die tragically in some unfortunate accident.

Besides, he knows I won't tell anyone. Who would I tell? The maids who hate my blood and fine clothes? No, I spend too much time using the curtains for target practice to garner any sympathy from them. Ty-Lee, then? Azula?

Never. No one. Only this scroll. Even you will get burned once I am tired of venting. And there's not much left to say.

Not like I happen to talk much anyways. According to Ty-lee, it's all bottled up so deep inside that one day I'm just going to implode from all the bad karma. Or aura. Or whatever kung-fu shit she believes in now.

Looking back, I don't know why Azula kept me around. I probably piqued her interest after I spent an entire morning tea slicing off pieces of the girls dresses with a blade when they weren't looking. Matron put me in solitary for a solid week for that one, but it was fun while it lasted.

Once she noticed how I reacted to her brother, though, I'm certain I became infinitely more amusing.

My parents couldn't have been happier. Everyone knew the princess was the more ambitious of the two, and if I was close to her, my family was that much closer to the royal coffers.

Besides, it didn't hurt that the prince blushed nearly every time someone mentioned the infamous duck pond incident. Not that I didn't too. It was a match made by heaven, they said…until the day of his banishment.

I was the "angry" one at school. Angry at the world, angry at the politics, and angry at myself for letting it happen. Ty-Lee was the pretty little socialite butterfly. Azula...well, Azula was her own stereotype.

In her own way, though, she was easy to understand. She was a monster child. Maybe a changeling like in the old tales from the South. Or it was just all of the inbreeding that ruined her mind? So when someone like me came along—Azula and I saw through each other equally well—someone who wouldn't couldn't just walk away from her... it was too good of an opportunity for her to pass up.

She was cruel from the beginning, but strangely kind as well. Her contrary personality made everyone walk lightly on their feet around her. One day she would help Ty-lee with Fire Nation History for hours, entertaining her with funny stories about various Fire Nation ancestors. The next, she would run a lick of fire through our lunch entrees and ask us to swallow it whole. I know she kept Ty-Lee to play with. She was the cute little rat for Azula's mind games. So was I. The only difference was that I knew it.

The only purely good thing was Zuko. We used to sit in the library and read, side by side in the huge burgundy armchairs. When Azula was close, we simply read, not speaking a word. When she left...

After Zuko was banished, it was hard to care about much of anything. As his own life down-spiraled toward failure, so did mine. I had grown so accustomed to his constant presence, even if it was primarily in the background, that when he vanished, I became suddenly aware of the hole he left behind. Some silly and still childish part of my mind was afraid that afraid that the hurt in my chest would make me keel over someday soon.

So I withdrew. Buried myself in throwing practice, and philosophy practice, and etiquette practice, and political practice until I didn't care anymore. All I wanted was to play my part in this shallow and deceitful play called life and exit stage right. Or at least I thought I did.

Now he's alive. I had all but erased him from my mind and he goes and makes himself a runaway. A runaway I'm supposed to catch and beat like a dog. I don't know if I can do that. Everything else I can handle. My life predetermined. I can deal with that. All the rules set by my parents and Azula. The little games they play. I can deal with that.

I just don't know if I can deal with him.

**Review Please! :)**

**-Bears**


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